


Springtime Tea, With... Nipples?

by flatfelledyetstillundone



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cake, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Newt is good at relationships, Other, Shadwell is obsessed with nipples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 02:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flatfelledyetstillundone/pseuds/flatfelledyetstillundone
Summary: It had all started because Anathema had insisted on having the Very Extended Family (as named by Anathema -- the rest were British enough to simply sigh and accept her American need to create a name for her fellow Nopocalypse participants) over for Spring Equinox to celebrate Springtime with her and Newt.----Or: In this Found Family, Shadwell is the reason no topic can stay on track. No teenagers were harmed in the making of this ridiculous conversation.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Springtime Tea, With... Nipples?

**Author's Note:**

> Look! I managed to write fluff!   
> Happy Spring Equinox, everyone!

It had all started because Anathema had insisted on having the Very Extended Family (as named by Anathema -- the rest were British enough to simply sigh and accept her American need to create a name for her fellow Nopocalypse participants) over for Spring Equinox to celebrate Springtime with her and Newt.

Tracy, of course, thought it was a lovely idea and said as much to everyone, multiple times. She may have been a retired Medium, but she was certainly not retired in her Occultist tendencies. An Equinox tea party was just the thing, she declared, and she helped Anathema and Newt hide three dozen colored eggs in the areas around and about Jasmine Cottage for the Them to find.

As gatherings of the Very Extended Family went, Anathema’s Spring Tea went quite well. Adam, Pepper, Wensleydale, and Brian made some festive decorations to hang both inside and out. It was rather a bit much with the Eggs and Bunnies theme, but that was what was expected, after all. Adam made Dog wear bunny ears and carry a basket in his mouth, which lasted all of five minutes until Adam was quite bored with the novelty of it and removed both. (Much to Dog’s relief.) Mr. S napped while Tracy helped with preparations, so there were relatively few bizarre exhortations shouted until after the party really got going and the adults had emptied the second bowl of Adult Punch. (Which had decidedly different ingredients than the Not Adult Punch.) Everyone knew Crowley well enough by now to know that he was a Big Faker, especially after he spent 15 minutes chasing/being chased by the Them in some sort of impromptu Chasing Game that had no discernable rules, as far as the adults could tell.

However, it is frequently noted that all good things must come to pass. While this statement is a vast oversimplification of a much more complex system, it is well worth noting that no gathering involving the Very Extended Family ever went truly smoothly. How could it, when it involved an Angel, a Demon, a Former Antichrist, His Three Best Friends (who were no longer channeling anything resembling the Horsemen, thankyouverymuch), a Witch, a Former Witchfinder Private who was most definitely not good with electronics but was good with relationships, a Former Witchfinder Sergeant, and a Former Medium? 

Therefore, it was no great surprise to any of the seated adults when Shadwell rather drunkenly declared, “But, laddie, ye can’t marry her! She’s a witch!”

Newt blinked rapidly and said mildly, yet firmly, “I most certainly can and will marry Anathema, thank you. And yes, she is a witch.”

Tracy rolled her eyes and muttered something into her punch.

Shadwell spluttered, “Ye can’t! Ye -- ye’ll be cavorting with the Devil! I can’t lose ye now, lad!”

Anathema turned to Newt and said, “Aww!” while making eyes at him over Shadwell’s rather remarkable display of affection.

Newt nodded at her with a small smile, then turned back to his Former Sargent. “Don’t worry, you’re not losing me; you’re gaining Anathema. And I promise, there’s no cavorting with the Devil.”

Crowley snorted punch out of his nose. Aziraphale made rather a fuss over him with his handkerchief. Anathema and Tracy got rather sidetracked with an eye-contact conversation regarding how adorable the two man-shaped beings were now that they’d become more open with their affection towards one another. (Tracy admitted to Anathema later, over the phone, that she should have been paying more attention to Mr. S, who was clearly too far in his cups, and that the whole fracas could have been nipped in the bud had she done so. But seeing her former Possessor waving an overlarge tartan handkerchief around and cooing at his love while said love tried to keep his sunglasses in place was far too distracting. Anathema thoroughly agreed, stating that she thought Crowley was either going to spontaneously combust or tackle Aziraphale right then and there. The two women had to take several minutes to catch their breath after that, having laughed so hard that they were gasping.)

Meanwhile, Shadwell began gesticulating. “But ye don’t know unless ye check! How many nipples  _ does _ she have?!”

Shadwell and Newt now had the attention of all the adults in the room. The Them rowdily played croquet out on the lawn. They’d found the last of the hidden eggs hours ago. Brian’s face was covered in chocolate from the candy baskets Anathema had made up for each of them. Crowley’s face was no longer covered in punch. Aziraphale’s face was full of confused curiosity. Tracy’s face was very carefully not covered in any expression, whatsoever.

Anathema giggled just a bit tipsily into her punch cup. Newt maintained the same calm expression he’d had when he’d started talking with Shadwell.

“Now, Mr. S,” Tracy began, placing a hand on Shadwell’s knee.

Newt held firm, voice pleasant but full of remarkable quiet authority. “I assure you, there is nothing unexpected or unusual in my fiance's physique.”

“But wha’ does that mean, then? Daes she ha’ two? Three? Five?”

Tracy tried to intervene. “Mr. S, I think we’ve had quite enough of this conversation…”

Anathema nearly tipped over onto Newt giggling. Instead, she lurched the other direction and placed her head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. He looked down at the top of her head, lapis eyes glittering pure mischief. Crowley merely looked bored. (Even though he was anything but. But it wouldn’t do to let them know that, would it? They knew anyway.)

“She’s a perfect human being,” Newt declared. His eyes flicked over to Crowley, who snorted into his punch glass.

Shadwell refused to take that for an answer. “Then why does she say she’s a witch!?”

“Because I am a witch!” Anathema declared at the same time Newt said, “Those aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.”

“Oh, enough now!” The Former Madame announced, “They’re just winding you up, Shadwell dearie. Come, let’s have another slice of that cake. Pass that over, love, that’s the ticket,” she took the serving of cake that Shadwell passed to her. 

Taking a bite, she said, “Aziraphale, your baking has become truly divine. This Victoria Sponge is just perfection.” She batted her eyelashes and gave a little shiver of delight. The display was more than enough to redirect the remainder of Shadwell’s attention.

Aziraphale wiggled in his seat. (Which dislodged Anathema, who decided she liked Newt’s shoulder better, anyway.) “Oh, it’s nothing like, I assure you, Tracy! Heaven wouldn’t know a good Victoria Sponge from a, a…”

“They wouldn’t know a good Victoria Sponge if you struck them in the face with one,” Crowley dryly completed.

Aziraphale clapped and turned to face him, “Oh, yes! Very good one, my dear! ‘If you struck them in the face.’” And he beamed brightly, laughing. “Although, that would be an awful waste, Crowley.”

“Hmmm,” the demon peeked over the top rim of his sunglasses. “Guess you should have another slice, then. Make sure none of it goes to waste.”

Somehow, Aziraphale’s smile managed to brighten and spread through the room and its occupants. “Oh! Capital idea, my dear! Would anyone else like seconds?” There was a chorus of general agreement, for it truly was the best Victoria Sponge any of them had ever had, and it was such a lovely Spring day to sit with friends and enjoy themselves.

Conversation abandoned the topic of nipples and returned to more the more socially obscure topics that pleased the group. And Crowley and Aziraphale most certainly did not wink at one another when they passed each other cups of Adult Punch.

Outside, the happy shrieks of the Them drifted on the Spring breeze.

**Author's Note:**

> Currently, I live for affection. Pretty please? Thank you!! <3


End file.
